


A Horse, A Horse, My Kingdom for a Horse

by StarkUnreality



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: AU, Gen, Humor, Parody, Prompt Fic, Prompt- Shakespearean Quote, Well Sort-of Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 02:13:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarkUnreality/pseuds/StarkUnreality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU, Humor</p><p>Hey look. Merlin has a horse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Horse, A Horse, My Kingdom for a Horse

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt- Use a Shakespearean quote that makes sense in context. (Feel free to fill it yourself)  
> I chose, "A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse," from Richard III.
> 
> Let me know what you think, yeah? Or if you like the prompt and wish to fill it yourself.

A Horse, A Horse, My Kingdom for a Horse (Merlin)

 

                "A horse, a horse. I'd give anything for a horse right now. My bed. My armor. Gwaine. Morgana, definitely Morgana. My sw-no. Not my sword." He gripped the pommel of said blade, and promptly tripped over a rock to land half in one of the many mud puddles in the road, splashing liquid that he didn't want to know the components of up his bedraggled tunic and hitting him in the mouth. He spat, swearing. "My kingdom. My _kingdom_ for a horse."

                "That last one sounds promising."

                Arthur spun, narrowly avoiding another mouthful of mud, and gripped his weapon ready to draw. And blinked.

                There was a man there. He had dark curly hair, startling blue eyes and ears too large for his head. His cheekbones would be the envy of the ladies of court and his gormless grin had Arthur thinking uncharitable thoughts. The piece of cloth around his neck looked ridiculous.

                And he was riding a horse.

                "Oh, thank the gods." He strode over, reaching for the reins.

                "Whoa, hold on there!" The peasant pulled back, dancing his horse out of reach. Arthur frowned.

                "Come, man, your horse. Give it to me." The peasant glared at him.

                "You can't just demand that I give you my horse."

                "Oh yes I can. Don't you know who I am?" Actually, now that he thought about it, the peasant probably didn't. He hardly looked the part of a King at the moment, and he doubted an idiot like this had ever been to Camelot. He'd have been eaten up in seconds. Arthur took a breath to inform him of his mistake when the peasant spoke first.

                "You're Arthur Pendragon. And that kingdom you were bartering earlier would be Camelot if I'm not mistaken."

                "I wasn't bartering Camelot!" he protested, indignant.

                "I believe you were just offering your kingdom for a horse."

                Oh. Right. The horse. Arthur rallied.

                "Right. So if you know who I am, then I demand your horse at once." He reached again for the reigns, and again the peasant pulled back.

                "No."

                Arthur gaped at him, incredulous.

                "No?"

                "No. I need this horse. Besides, I'm hardly going to give her away for free with such a high going rate."

                "He," he corrected absently. "And I doubt you need him more than I do." Arthur was still furious, but relaxed some of the tension in his already aching muscles. This was a game he knew. He shouldn't have to be playing it now, but he could. "I'll give you two gold pieces."

                "Two gold pieces! She'd be worth at least three at market, and that's not even considering the current demand and the limited resources of our current situation. Besides, you wouldn't accept her life choices."

                "Life-" Arthur shook his head, ignoring the insanity of the last statement. Unfortunately, he couldn't ignore the truth of the first two. He grimaced, reaching for his pouch. "Look I've got fifteen gold pieces on me. That's five times h-the horse's worth. Now, dismount so we can get this over with."

                "No."

                Arthur groaned. "Fine. I've got five more in my pack. But that's all I have, I can't give you anything else. Look, I'm in a bit of a hurry, so..."

                "No."

                "I've got nothing else! Twenty gold coins is way more than anyone could ever expect-"

                "I believe the going rate was a kingdom."

                Arthur stared at him, disbelieving.

                "I'm not going to give you my kingdom!"

                "Then you're not getting your horse."

                "If you don't give me your horse then there won't be a kingdom for anyone to have! There probably won't be anyway, but I need that horse."

                "Why? What's wrong with my kingdom?"

                "It's not _your_ kingdom, it's _my_ kingdom. And it's under siege and if I don't get past the group of immortal knights and the circle of sorcerers and break the giant red gem under guard in the tiny chamber just off the throne room, not to mention the bloody _dragon_ , then Camelot is going to burn. Now take the twenty coins and _give me the bloody horse_." There's a ringing silence for a moment, during which Arthur takes the time to gasp for breath and push back the anger, and terror, and hopelessness, and gods _his people are still back there_ , let them be alive, let them be alive, letthembealive-

                "I suppose a kingdom is a bit much to ask for."

                -And Arthur is going to _strangle_ this peasant.

                "How about you just give it to me for a year?"

                Forget strangling. He's going to crucify the dolt. He's never seen that done, but he hears it's fun.

                "No? That's okay. I'd probably get bored anyway. How about a month? Camelot could probably hold my attention that long."

                Draw and quarter maybe?

                "A week?"

                "And how exactly am I supposed to hand over my kingdom? It's not as if anyone would follow you." Arthur's finally got his voice back, and this seems all he can do to counter the madness of the _theoretical situation_.

                "They would if you told them to."

                "And let you run _my_ Camelot into the ground? Who knows what you could do to it in a week."

                "You know, if you weren't such a prat, I might be convinced to share."

                "How exactly do you share a kingdom?"

                The idiot ponders this for a moment, then lights up.

                "We could marry! Wait, no, I don't want to be attached to you for the rest of my life. I could be your Consort?"

                There's just- There are no words.

                "Look, I need to get back to Camelot or there won't _be_ a kingdom for anyone." Then he adds under his breath, "Assuming I can be of any help at all." It's a dreadful thought, and one that has been haunting him ever since he got the information he left for and learned the full extent of the danger his kingdom was in.

                "What if I could save our kingdom?"

                "It's not your kingdom. And what could you possibly do? Set up an extortion racket and leave them all penniless?"

                "Oh, I could do a fair bit I imagine." And then the peasant's eyes flash gold.

                Arthur is five steps further back and his sword is drawn before he even registers what he sees.

                "Sorcerer."

                The peasant -sorcerer, he's a sorcerer!- rolls his eyes, and suddenly all Arthur really wants to do is smack him upside the head for his insolence.

                "Remember, I'm offering to save our kingdom here."

                "It's _my_ kingdom. And I'm not going to let a sorcerer anywhere _near_ Camelot."

                "You already have. A circle of them, by your account, along with a group of immortal knights and a dragon." The anger and terror and hopelessness flashes through him again, somehow different from the danger he's currently facing, where the only one he's risking is himself. Only, he's not, because he's the only one who knows how to destroy the red gem, and if it's not destroyed, Camelot will fall. And the only one with the transportation that will get him there before the full moon rises is the sorcerer sitting on the horse next to him.

                "Hey now, easy. Easy." The sorcerer is looking at him with concern, and his father must be turning in his grave, and this is the most desperate situation he's ever been in and that's really saying something. "Arthur? Are you okay?"

                "You can't talk to me like that."

                "I can talk to you however I like, I'm going to be your Consort. And I'm going to help you save our kingdom, so take it easy, okay? Don't pass out on me."

                "I never agreed to that." Somehow it doesn't seem to matter. Nothing really seems to matter, and he knows that's wrong, that what the sorcerer is saying is something he should be protesting to, but his sword has fallen into the muck, and somehow he is in the muck too as he reaches down for it, and he barely hears the next words of the sorcerer as he finally gets off his horse and there's a warm hand gripping his shoulder.

                "I promise you, as long as I am Consort, I will protect our kingdom with my magic and all that I am. We can discuss the details of our arrangement later." 

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone catch the Doctor Who reference?


End file.
